Home to me is not just a word in the dictionary. Home is where I feel safe. It is my shelter. I was born in my home. It is where my memories began. When something is disturbing me I come home, hug my mom and I feel much better. At home I love to play with my brother, cook with my mother, and watch TV with my father. I love to invite friends to my home, because we laugh and play in the place I call home. When I stay somewhere else rather than my home, like a hotel, it doesn’t feel the same, because it’s not where my memories began. I get sad that some people don’t have a home. That they can’t sleep in a comfortable place, or have a place where they feel safe. We should try to help the poor, so that they can have a home.